Rather Die Than Do It Your Way {open}

[Storm Dancer]

{an empire's fall in just one day}

The air was heavy and damp, with a thin, whispy fog filling the air. Dawn had not yet broken through the darkness, and everything was surrounded by an eery stillness. It was almost as if time had stopped, capturing the streaks of moonlight that made striped bands of silver through the emerging foliage of the trees above, only to highlight the grass below. It had stopped and captured an image of the stars that glittered in between scattered clouds, and it captured the skeleton like shadows of the trees. One tree in particular, a large sycamore, twisted and gnarled, cast a crawling shadow that seemed to stretch for miles, even in the dim light.

{you close your eyes and the glory it fades}

A ghostly figure hovered through the mist, falling under the shadow of the towering tree. Her yellowish coat was bright and highlighted silver in the moonbeams, mane and tail flowing and free of tangles or dirt. Nostrils flared, blowing hot breaths of steam into the murky air. And her eyes... her eyes were deep and dark, swirling with clouds of hatred. She stopped only feet from the tree's trunk, and twisted around to face away from it. Storm had heard rumors that the lands nearby were populated, but thus far she hadn't seen a single sign of equine life. The ground beneath her feet was soft and held no marks of other hoofs, the grass was growing and untouched by the appetites of grazers. No scents or sights held a single hint of equine life. It was well enough though, less competition that way. Orbs scanned the horizon, and gears turned in her mind to decide on her next move. The mare had come from the right, and there was nothing more to be seen there. From this point forward, the only logical direction would be towards her left, so that is where she would head.

{ready aim fire away}

Soon dawn would bring it's orange light to the horizon, once again warming the soil and alerting the critters of the forest that it was time to eat and play. Storm turned left, her muscles rippling under taught skin, eager to move on. The mare didn't exactly know why she was even seeking out another horse. Frankly, she was perfectly content to live on her own, because she hated other mares and despised the stallions that sought to breed and control her. Her creamy coat had enough scars from the constant battles with her last stallion, Garth, and he had left with his fair share of injuries as well.  At first they had hated each other, a deep passionate hate that had boiled in their guts for more than a year.  Garth lost his hatred when she was old enough to breed, and Storm had held onto her hatred until she had seen how caring he had been with their child.  That was more than a year ago though, old news.  She had only been trotting for a couple minutes before she came to a screeching halt once more.  A scent had caught her attention... another equine.

Words: 507  Tags: Open  OOC: Stkw
Muse: Imagine Dragons- Ready Aim Fire

[Straia]

Straia has never been a fan of this type of weather, where the air clings to her skin like a wet second skin. It’s always cooler in the pine forests of her Chamber, and though the air may be damp in the misty morning, it’s cool and refreshing and pleasant. Many would disagree with her. They dislike the shadows of the pines, the gnarled branches that reach out like talons. But she has grown up beneath those trees, within the mists, and to her, there was no better lover.

Not that Straia had fallen into the arms of very many. Just one, out of necessity and nothing else. They cared for their child together, raised their son to love the Chamber as his parents did, but they did not love one another. Certainly there was a mutual respect, but nothing more. She did not seek anything more from the living. She did not need it, not when she could slip through the pine forests, limbs caresses her back and shadows curling around her.

There was no better place to be.

But of course, she is not there right now. No, she’s out in the field. After yelling at her kingdom to get their asses in gear and recruit, she knew she needed to do the same as well. Though really, she was out here a lot, at all the various hours of the day. There were different types of creatures to be found depending on the time, and she wanted a collection of all of them. They could all offer the Chamber something different than the last, and the Chamber deserved everything. Needed it, too.

There’s another mare here, and she catches the scent before the sight. Though it’s not long before she finds the yellowy figured beneath the full moon. She did not necessarily seem like a mare that cared much for company, but then, she probably shouldn’t have come to the field. She does, however, seem like a mare that might suit life in the Chamber pretty well.

“I’m Straia,” she offers, her voice smoky, her words polite but not overly so. She never wastes time with pleasantries unless she truly has to. She will not comment on the weather or how lovely the moonlight looks in the fog. “From the Chamber.” Straia is all business. Regal and lovely and blunt. What a strange combination our bay and white queen is indeed.

straia

queen of the chamber

[Storm Dancer]

{i learned the voices died with me}

Her eyes were wide and glowing as she scanned the shadows, searching for the equine that held a scent so strongly in the heavy air.  It was a mare, that much she could tell.  Storm was a bit disappointed, though, as part of her had hoped that she would be able to pass through the area without having to talk to another living creature.  Just having to hold up a conversation with most mares was a mind-numbingly boring activity.  Before she even saw the stranger Storm had decided they would have their little greeting and then Storm would move on.  Chances were that any mare around here was only looking for a home; in her experience it was the stallions that sought out the new mares to be forced into a herd.  


The cremello mare stood her ground, waiting to see if she would be approached, lest they just go in circles around each other.  Soon enough, a bay-splotched figure crawled into sight.  This newcomer held herself with dignity and strength, and she looked like one who sought out what she needed and ignored the useless gestures that most had become so accustomed to.  Basically, the opposite of what had been expected.  

Storm snorted at the greeting she was offered, not necessarily in a rude way, more as an acknowledgement of the mare's words.  Chamber... she had heard of the place, though only in passing rumors.  After all, Storm had hardly spent any time in the area, she knew very little of anything around her.  But what she had heard of the Chamber made it sound like a good place for her to be.  It sounded like an area that the naive innocents were to avoid, and that was exactly where she wanted to be.  Still, she could not be sure the rumors were true.  Despite this, she, in her own strange way, respected the 'to-the-point' attitude of the painted mare.  

Working hard to control her attitude, not wanting to lose an opportunity to live in the only place it sounded as if she would be able to tolerate, the vixen lowered her eyes slightly and looked at the ground, almost ashamed that she had nothing sarcastic to say.  "I'm Storm Dancer." Her voice was rough and grudgingly controlled as if she had been defeated already.  "I assume you are looking for members, though I must admit I know little of the Chamber and what it holds." 

tags Straia, 407 words.
notes, ...need to fix my manip there... oh well.

[Straia]

Perhaps it’s a good thing that Straia is not most mares. She only had a mother for a year. A bit less, truthfully, but she likes to say a year at least. Sounds cleaner, wastes less time. After that, she’d been surrounded by males most of her life, hell bent on being better than them in just about every way. Well, just better enough to deserve the crown. Which she was, and which she now possessed. But in truth, she wasn’t a moron, and she could see where their skills were useful and would defer to others when they had something to offer. She wanted to be queen, and now she was. Now, she wanted to be a good queen.

Good, of course, not in the warm and fluffy sense of the word. Good, as in rebuild her kingdom, leave it better than it was when she took the throne. The Queen of Ash and Ruin. That’s what she was, truthfully. But the Chamber was far less ashy, and far less ruined, since she’d taken the throne.  Yes, overthrew her own father for it (he had let the Chamber down, and so deserved it). And sold him to the Valley. Maybe he didn’t deserve that part, but she’s pretty sure he did.

The ghostly mare that Straia had found seems polite enough. A bit forced, perhaps, but Straia could appreciate one that didn’t feel like wasting time, didn’t feel like being overly polite when the need didn’t require it. The bay and white queen was quite skilled at pretty words, and more importantly, making you believe she actually meant them. But she didn’t waste her time with that skill when it wasn’t useful, when she wasn’t looking for others capable of pretty words. Right now, all she wanted were dedicated Chamber members. They didn’t need to be the world’s best diplomat. That’s why she had Kavi, anyway.

“Your assumption is correct,” she says, nodding her head just slightly as the mare introduces herself, an acknowledgment of the introduction though not a ‘pleasure to meet you’ sort of thing. It is not yet a pleasure. It certainly could be- things were not looking terrible at the moment. But Straia often withholds judgment for a time. “The Chamber is considered the evil kingdom of Beqanna. I wouldn’t call us evil, necessarily, but certainly determined. The collection of horses there ranges from one rather nice one, to me, to ones that I’m pretty sure might be slightly certifiable.”

This is probably not a typical recruiting speech. No, not probably. It is not. She doesn’t care. If they aren’t interested in what she has to offer, she’s not interested in them. They’ll figure it out sooner or later if they have half a brain anyway. “But despite the broad swath of personalities, everyone has one another’s back. Personally though, if you think you like the sound of it at all, I’d recommend coming and taking a look. Hang out for a bit. If you don’t like it, leave. I’m not here to hold you against your will. Though I will do my best to answer any other questions you might have.” Then, having said more than enough, she falls silent to see what the mare thinks.

straia

queen of the chamber

[Storm Dancer]

{i learned the voices died with me}

Thus far everything was going fine. But perhaps "fine" was the wrong word to use here. It wasn't a meeting that either of them intended to be pleasant, and they both knew it. It was a business meeting, and they weren't about to pretend like it was anything more. Why waste time pretending anyway? The petty flattery of gossipy mares was sickening, and absolutely nothing Storm wanted to be a part of.

The mare in front of her, the dignified white mare splashed with patches of brown, she knew what she was doing. Though she hadn't specifically introduced herself as so, Storm suspected she was queen, or at the very least, second to lead. It might have been the way she held herself with pride and dignity, or the short and sweet attitude she possessed, either way, it made an impression on the wanderer.

Storm listened, intently, pulling in and analyzing every word that flowed off the tongue of the painted mare. As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she liked the sounds of this place. Evil, determined, these were words that rang like sweet sweet music to her ears. The cremello notably perked up, her eyes glimmering, eager to meet the other creatures that classified themselves worthy to live in such a place. Though Straia went on to explain that Storm would be free to leave at any time, the mare didn't really need any more convincing. With any luck, she could, and would, lurk in the Chamber for the rest of her days, likely avoiding the other lands and their inhabitants.

Memories bubbled up of her own homeland, where she had spent a mere year and a half of her life. The memories weren't particularly fond, but they brought with them a warm glow nonetheless. She pictured her own dam, weak and insignificant, cowering beneath the the power of her sire. He had been a spectacular sight, tall and powerful, perfectly carved muscles outlining every inch of his body. Often, blood had stained his coat, which was creamy and smooth just as hers. Never his own blood though; few equines dared to challenge him. The stallion had always made sure to maintain his dominance with a cruel hand, beating those around him into submission before they had even had a chance to protest his authority. It had been this stallion that Storm idolized, worshiped even. Until the day he had died Storm lived and breathed for his every order, and even now she wished to continue on with her life in his name, and eventually build upon his legacy. First, she needed a home, somewhere to start anew and recover from old injuries.

A few moments passed before Storm realized how sidetracked she had become. Shaking her head, she quickly said, "If I have any questions now, I can't think of them. If I have any questions later I'll figure it out on my own."

tags Straia, 490 words.
notes, n/a.